2,936 Days
by insightfuldamon
Summary: Elena and Damon have reached an impasse in their relationship. Travel back and forth through their relationship during the holiday season to see how their relationship developed and what happened. One shot holiday fic, told in third person, primarily from Damon's point of view.


Author's Note: Happy Holidays! This is a complete one-shot for the Delena Fandom Awards. It's a story told in 3rd person POV, but primarily sticks with Damon's POV. I worked really hard on this, so I hope everyone that reads it, enjoys it. Thank You and let me know what you think!

 **2,936 Days**

 **Day 2,566 (December 20, 2017)**

He usually insisted on getting the largest tree and dragging it in by himself, while his best friend, Alaric, mocked him from the bar in their living room. Elena hated cleaning up the pine needles, but loved the smell of the tree. Damon teased her, calling her Snow White, not just because of her dark hair and angelic face complete with rosebud lips, but because Elena loved the smell of the woods after a storm. She scared him half to death the first time she ran deep into the Virginia woods while it was pouring.

In hindsight, he should've seen what was coming when she bought a fake tree from Target two weeks earlier. He came home from the office and it was up and decorated with twinkling white lights and their usual ornaments, but it wasn't the same. For one thing, she wasn't sitting by the tree with a mug of hot chocolate, listening to Christmas music. She was in her office working on her latest article for BE magazine. Be Everything? He could almost laugh. Since she'd taken that job, she'd been everything but herself.

Damon stood by the tree, admiring a ornament from the first time they'd met. It was Santa riding a blue Camaro. Elena had bought it for him after being forced to spend the day together shopping for an adopt a family charity, buying a family in need gifts for the holidays. Damon had been forced to participate because he was one infraction away from expulsion at the local university and needed the community service hours to get back in the dean's good graces. Elena's friend Caroline signed her up because Caroline organized the event. That was the day he knew he'd never be the same. His life would be immensely better because this girl was miraculously in it.

He felt her presence, and turned around, no longer looking at the tree but looking at his wife. There was something wrong, he could tell by the way she was standing, her shoulders slumped, her eyes were puffy like she'd been crying. He wanted to go to her, but there was something immobilizing him. A tangible energy. A darkness blocked his path.

They stood across from each other on opposite ends of the living room, as if emotional distance wasn't enough, there needed to be a physical barrier between love and hate. She swept her dark brown locks behind her ears to keep herself from disappearing into herself as she often did when she knew she had to do something hard. Her preference was to continue to avoid him until he made the decision for her. She wasn't afraid of confrontation, on the contrary, when backed up against the wall, her tongue could be as sharp as her right hook. But this was different. This was severing a piece of her own heart and forcing herself to remain open and wounded while she watched the inevitable fallout.

Her hands played with the hem of her cream tunic and she bit her lip. Unable to control himself any longer, he strode towards her, but she stopped him by simply placing her hand up.

Damon's brow furrowed with concern. "What is it, Elena?" he had to dig his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her, something he wanted to do in that moment. To ease her pain. That's what he was good at, being there for her when she needed to be vulnerable, something she rarely allowed other's to see.

"I umm.." she hesitated. This was it. She knew this was the only way, but it didn't make saying the actual words any easier. "I need a drink."

Damon gave her an uneasy stare, not truly believing this is what she really needed, but he was willing to play along. He nodded. "I'll get you one."

Elena stayed unmoved while Damon turned around and walked to the bar across their living room. He pulled out two crystal tumblers and started to pour bourbon. Elena wasn't a huge fan of bourbon, usually opting for wine or a gin and tonic, but he could sense her need for something stronger.

"I want a divorce," she said in a cracked whisper.

Damon turned around, still holding a partially filled glass. He couldn't have heard her right. They were fine. They were Damon and Elena Salvatore. Nothing could touch them as long as they were together. She was his life, she was his eternity, always and forever. That's what he said to her the day they got married. Not in front of everyone, but at 3:25 in the morning, when he barged into her hotel room because he was worried she had second thoughts and couldn't bare going one morning without seeing her smile or her angry yawn when his alarm woke her up. He didn't deserve her. He knew that, but he knew she loved him, because Elena Gilbert Salvatore loved with her entire being. Her compassion was her greatest weapon.

"What?" he asked, trying to get her to look him in the eyes, but she was still looking at the hem of her tunic, biting her lip. Still.

"A divorce," she breathed.

He shook his head. "No."

Elena knew she had to be more firm in her stance. She knew that she had to draw up confidence or this was going to get worse. She lifted her head up and looked directly into his cool grey eyes. "This isn't working," she said. "It hasn't been working for a while."

Damon looked at her incredulously. "Then we go to counseling," he yelled. "Divorce isn't even an option for us."

"Damon," she said, hesitantly. "This is what I need. This is what I want."

Damon downed what he had in the glass and threw it at the wall between them, shattering the glass. Elena barely flinched. She had expected this reaction from him.

"What about what I want? What I need?" he yelled. "Because I need you, Elena. I want you. That will never change."

"Damon, you've been blinded by the fact that things haven't been the same for a while. We've grown apart. You've been working and taking on more and more business trips…"

Damon growled, interrupting her. "Don't you dare pin this on work. Ever since _you've_ started that magazine, you've been distant. Even Caroline called me, wondering what was wrong. Did you hear that Elena? Caroline called me! She was so worried about you, because you've been avoiding her phone calls, so she called me."

Elena flushed and looked back down at the carpet. She knew this wasn't going to be easy, but she knew she had to do it. She had to pull the plug. It was the only way. She swallowed back the tears and desire to run into his arms, lifted her chin and stared into his eyes. "I don't love you anymore."

Damon didn't budge. He knew something was wrong. "I don't care. I'll make you love me again."

Elena threw her hands up in the air. "I'm leaving and you can't stop me."

"Like hell I can't," he said, ready to lock her in their bedroom until she was willing to talk rationally.

Just then, someone walked through the front door. "You ready?" Tyler said to Elena.

"The bags are in my office," she replied. "Give me a minute with Damon."

Tyler glanced at Damon and nodded. "I'll wait for you in my car," he replied, walking down the hallway to her office.

Damon couldn't believe what was happening. "You brought Lockwood as back-up?"

When Elena didn't answer, he continued. "You planned this."

Damon's face broke, like the time he finally admitted the burn marks on his forearm were from his father. A winter storm was starting. Rain had started to fall, and Elena went for a run. Scared out of his mind, Damon ran after her, finding her at her parent's grave sight. It was the moment she knew she loved him, because he opened himself up to her. And now, he was standing in their living room, breaking down. Wounded. Flayed. It broke her.

"I'm staying with Caroline while you digest this," she said, softly.

"Don't go," he pleaded, finally moving toward her.

She stepped back, avoiding his touch. That would be her downfall and would ruin everything. "Damon…"

He fell to his knees. "We can get through anything. Just tell me what's going on and I'll fix it."

He leaned forward and hugged her knees, resting his head against her thighs. "I'm not letting you leave."

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She knew this would be hard, but she thought he'd just get angry and leave. She didn't anticipate him breaking down, open and wounded. Scared. But she had to do this. This was bigger than the both of them.

Tears began to fall on top of his head, and he looked up. Hopeful. She ran her hands through his hair, allowing herself to feel the silky strands between her fingers for the last time. "We had a good run."

"It's not over," he pleaded.

She shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. "It's over."

Elena pried his hands off of her and walked out the front door, leaving Damon in a crumpled heap on the floor. She walked to Tyler's car, feeling like part of her soul was missing.

"Ready?" Tyler asked.

She nodded. "My flight leaves in a couple of hours. We'd better get going."

"Caroline is going to kill me," Tyler says, turning the ignition.

Elena put her head in her hands, her tears freely flowing. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, Elena," Tyler says, reassuringly. "You're one of my best friends. Caroline loves you. Damon loves you. You'll get through this, even if you won't tell me what's going on."

She shook her head. "Nothing will ever be the same. It's why I need to go."

 **Day 1 (December 11, 2010)**

"Do you have your list?" Caroline asked.

Elena nodded, trying not to roll her eyes. "I am shopping for the Johansons."

Caroline paced the parking lot of the Mystic Falls Galleria, gazing at all of the groups like an army sergeant. "Bonnie, who are you shopping for?"

Bonnie and Elena shared a look, causing them both to stifle grins. "Matt and I are shopping for the Eriksons."

"Do you have the list?"

Bonnie waved the piece of paper in the air. "Yeah, you personally handed it to me."

Caroline pursed her lips. "Just making sure you didn't lose it between the high school and mall."

Bonnie glared at her. Caroline proceeded to go through each group's job and where to meet when they were done. "So, everyone should have a partner and don't forget to use the gift cards I purchased from the proceeds of the car washes over the summer to buy the items on your list."

Elena went on her tiptoes and searched the lot. Then she looked at her phone for what felt like the millionth time. Stefan was supposed to help her out today, but it looked like he was bailing on her, which would mean she'd have to really haul ass to get all the items on her list, or Caroline would draw and quarter her in the town square .

"Elena," Caroline said. "Where's Stefan?"

Elena shrugged. "He won't answer my text messages."

"Some people have no respect for the amount of time it took me to plan this," Caroline ranted.

"I think you're losing sight of the bigger picture," Elena replied. "Isn't this about…"

She didn't get to finish what she was saying because a classic blue Camaro corvette pulled up beside the group. A guy with tousled raven black hair lifted up his aviator sunglasses and assessed the group. "Is this where the charity-for-high-school-students-who-need-extra-curricular-activities-for-college-applications meet?"

Elena tried suppress a grin. Caroline put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a death glare. "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm subbing for Stefan Salvatore," he replied.

Caroline cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little old to be participating in a high school service project?"

He scanned the students crowded around Caroline, his eyes locking on Elena. "Do they put an age limit on serving those in need?"

"They do if you're using this as an opportunity to scam on underage girls."

The guy in the convertible mocked offense. "I'm here purely for the children," he replied, winking at Elena, causing her to flush.

"Ugh, you're disgusting," Caroline retorted, turning to Elena. "Do you really need the help?"

Elena was conflicted. She was supposed to look for gifts with Stefan, but considering he bailed, and sent whoever this guy was, she admitted to herself that the idea of shopping with someone who so obviously pisses off Caroline seemed at the very least, entertaining.

"Yeah, I do," Elena said, turing towards the mystery man.

The guy nodded his approval, his cobalt blue eyes twinkling. "See? I am needed."

He parked his car, hopped out and strode over to Elena, taking the list out of her hands. "Hey!" she cried.

"Hey, yourself," he held out his hand. "Damon Salvatore."

Caroline laughed, and Elena cursed herself. She knew Stefan had a brother, but had yet to meet him. Stefan and Elena were still friends, bordering on something more. Always bordering on something more. Stefan was a slow mover, and after bailing on Elena, she was getting tired of his games. But dealing with his hot older brother, who looked like an undercover Marvel superhero in dark wash jeans and a v-neck t-shirt, she wasn't sure how this day was going to go.

Elena shook his hand. "Elena Gilbert."

"Ahh," Damon said. "The famous Elena Gilbert." Still holding her hand, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, sending tingles up her spine. "I'm supposed to make sure no one makes a move on you."

She bit her lip, partially out of indignation, and partially to suppress something else entirely. "Stefan doesn't own me, he has no right to say that."

Damon shrugged. "I love my brother, but if it were me, I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

Caroline said something to the group, but Elena didn't hear. She was still replaying what Damon had said to her. She was both thrilled by what he said, and irritated because he had to be messing with her. Plus, Stefan sent him, so he was most definitely messing with her. Shit. She had to spend the day with him.

"Elena! Did you hear anything I said," Caroline yelled. Elena was still holding Damon's hand. She immediately dropped it and nodded.

"Yup! Heard every word," she replied.

Damon leaned down for the second time, and whispered _liar_ in her hear. She smiled. At least she wouldn't have to carry all the bags by herself.

"You hate the holidays?" Elena asked incredulously. They were in the middle of a department store looking at children's clothing, trying to find the right size tutu for a five year old. They were only partially through their list, because Damon was so easily distracted.

He insisted on treating Elena to a latte, where they sat and talked for an hour, sharing a large gingerbread man cookie. Damon let Elena have the legs because he said he wanted her to give him head. Elena was disgusted and amused, so she was grinning when she punched him on the shoulder and took the head anyway.

Then Damon got distracted at Brookstone and demanded Elena sit in one of the massage chairs. "You own one of these, don't you?" Elena asked, laughing at the way the roller punched her back. Damon must've set it to the most uncomfortable setting.

"Gave it to GoodWill because I never used it," he stated.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think they only feel good if you're sitting on it in the middle of a Brookstone, because the moment it was delivered, and placed in my den, I hated it."

Elena giggled, then yelped as Damon changed the setting up, so her back was being pounded over and over in a quick rhythm. She wiggled and tried to get out of the chair, until Damon grabbed her hand and pulled her out.

"If you weren't in Mystic Falls for the holidays, where would you be?" she asked, walking to the next stop on their list.

Damon thought about it for a moment. "Lounging on a beach with a couple of girls by my side and a glass of expensive bourbon. You?"

"When I was little, my dad took me to a medical conference in San Francisco for Stanford University. When it was over, he took me to Ghirardelli Square for a hot fudge sundae. Turn of the century carolers walked around and sang for the visitors. Everything was lit up. It was magical," she reminisced.

"You should go," he said.

She shook her head. "And miss this? I love Mystic Falls this time of year."

"That makes one of us," Damon muttered.

Damon also liked trying on every pair of sunglasses. "What do you think?" he asked, after he put on a pair of over sized couture round sunglasses in a brilliant green.

"You look like a bug," she replied, dryly. "Who'd buy those?" she asked reaching up for the price tag. "Oh my God! These sunglasses cost as much as that horrible massage chair."

He smiled, still wearing the glasses and handed her a pair of large rounded black sunglasses. She put them on. "These remind me of my mom."

Elena regretted the words the moment they came out of her mouth. She never talked about her parents, but the glasses took her back to a time not long ago when she'd go into her mom's closet and try on her clothes and jewelry. Her mother called the black sunglasses, her Jackie O glasses. Classic, like the first lady.

Seeing the reaction to what she said, Damon took them off of her and replaced them with silver aviators. "Now you look like Maverick. Very badass."

He wasn't being insensitive. He had perfectly deflected the situation with a smooth, slightly complimentary comment. A smile tugged at her lips. "Highway to the Danger Zone," she sang loudly.

"Stop," Damon pleaded. "Your ruining the image."

Elena took off the sunglasses and looked at their list. "We'd better get back to the list. We still have to get a tutu and about a dozen other things."

Which brought them upstairs, looking through tutus in the children's department. Elena looked at Damon expectantly, waiting for a reply. "Why do you hate the holidays?" she reiterated.

He sighed, picking up a toddler sized pair of Nike sneakers and analyzing them. "What's to like? Commercialized cheer in the form of a jolly old man who likes it when kids sit on his lap and feed him cookies? It's all so….fake."

Elena gave Damon a scathing look. "You are so avoiding the question." Damon ignored her and kept looking at tiny shoes.

Unable to contain the argument brewing in her, she took the shoes out of Damon's hand and placed them back on the display. "And kids don't feed Santa cookies. They leave it out for him with a glass of milk and carrots for the reindeer," she hissed.

He smirked at her indignation, which made her more angry. "You're such an ass. I bet you think you're so cool and ironic hating everyone's favorite holiday."

Damon's eyes widened. "So it's _everyone's_ favorite holiday? What about people who don't celebrate Christmas? What about all of the other holidays? I personally favor Halloween."

"You would," she spat. "And I'm referring to the holiday season, not Christmas. It's magical. The season brings people closer together."

Damon scoffed. "Magical?"

"Have you ever heard of the Gift of the Magi, by O. Henry?"

Damon shook his head, but was listening. "The story is about a poor young married couple, who have two prized possessions. Jim, an heirloom gold watch and Della, her long hair. On Christmas Eve, they both want to get each other something special for the holiday. Jim wants to get Della expensive hair combs to wear in her beautiful long hair and Della wants to get Jim a chain for his heirloom pocket watch. Neither has quite enough money for the gift, so Della sells her hair to get the chain for the watch, and Jim sells his watch to buy the expensive hair clips. When they exchange gifts, they realize what happened and even though they can't use what the other bought each other, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for one another. The story is about sacrifice and how priceless love truly is."

Damon's mother had read to him an illustrated version of the story Elena told, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Instead he shook his head like she was speaking hippy love crap. He didn't need a reminder of what this season meant to him. "I honestly don't know what my brother sees in you."

Elena let out an unintelligible noise. She could not believe he just said that. "Well, I don't either, because he's not here and _you_ are."

Damon looked regretful and tried to find the right words to say, but Elena interjected his thoughts, ripping the list in half. "Look, why don't we just split up the rest of the list," she said, handing him the list.

Elena grabbed the tutu she was looking at and went to the register to pay. She hoped that Damon would still be there when she was done paying, but he had left by the time the cashier handed her the bag.

Elena texted Stefan a few times while she was shopping, but he didn't respond. She was pretty much ready to end it before it even started and she could define what "it" was.

Elena was in a gift and card store looking for Caroline approved gift wrap, which meant nothing too gaudy and she had to stick with the color scheme of red, green, gold and silver. She saw it. Out of the corner of her eye, gleaming in the light, she spotted an ornament. The perfect ornament for someone who was being a royal dick. It was Santa Claus wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, sitting in a blue Camaro.

Elena couldn't help herself. She bought the ornament, wrapped it in tissue and tucked it into her purse.

Damon found her walking through the mall, carrying half a dozen bags. "Elena!" he yelled.

She ignored him, so he decided to follow her. "I need to talk to you," he demanded.

She continued to walk without saying a word. "I'm prepared to make a scene," he said.

Elena stumbled and had to readjust her bags, but was determined not to look at Damon. "Stefan didn't bail on you. I needed the community service hours or I'd get kicked out of Duke, so Stefan let me take his place."

Elena stopped, causing Damon to walk into her. She started to trip backwards but Damon held her steady around the waist. She looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if he was being honest or covering for his brother. "He still should've told me and he could've answered my text messages."

Damon's grip on her waist tightened, like he was keeping her from darting off. If Elena was willing to admit it, she'd say it felt good to be held like that, so sure and steady. The warmth of his hands liquifying her insides. She felt her cheeks warm, and immediately stepped out of his grasp, reminding herself that this was Stefan's brother.

"I brought you a peace offering," he said, pulling a hot soft pretzel from one of his bags.

Elena grabbed it out of his hands. "Ahh, sustenance," she cried, taking a bite while she started walking down the mall again. "You know what would make this perfect?"

Damon reached into the same bag and pulled out a spicy honey mustard sauce, which Elena immediately took. "How did you know?"

He shrugged, tearing off a piece of the pretzel for himself. "Did you finish your list?"

Elena shook her head. "Did you?"

Damon nodded, holding up all of the bags. "Damn, you're like a wizard," she commented.

"Just call me Harry Potter," he replied.

Elena chuckled. "Okay Harry, I still have to get three more things, and we have an hour before Caroline kicks our asses for being late."

An hour later, Elena and Damon met Caroline and the other's in the parking lot, where they loaded Caroline's SUV with the gifts.

"Elena, do you need a ride?" Bonnie asked.

"I'll take her home," Damon replied.

Bonnie looked to Elena for approval. She nodded. "It's fine."

Bonnie gave Elena a look that bordered on being completely judgmental, but Elena ignored it, allowing Damon to walk her to his car.

They were quiet most of the way to her house, and when Damon pulled up and parked, Elena finally spoke. "I know you hate the holidays because of something that happened to you in the past. It's personal. I get that better than anyone." She reached into her purse and pulled out the gift.

"I thought this might make you smile. Thanks for helping me out today, Damon," she said, quickly getting out of the car and running inside her home without looking back.

 **Day 2,567 (December 21, 2017)**

Damon drove all over town looking for Elena. He called family and friends. Jeremy was currently in Japan working for a video game designer. Alaric and Jenna were in Europe on vacation. The moment he discovered she wasn't at Caroline's, he knew something was going on. Elena wouldn't leave like that and Tyler wasn't saying a word, even when Damon threatened to kick his ass.

The only thing that stopped him from punching Tyler was he knew Caroline would tell Elena, and then he may never get her back. It wasn't until Caroline surprisingly intervened and told her husband that if he didn't tell her where Elena was, he'd sleep on the couch for the unforeseeable future.

Tyler said that he didn't know where she was, but he dropped her off at the airport. Meaning, she could be anywhere. Frustrated, Damon stood in the middle of Caroline's kitchen. A place he usually loathed, but hoped it would now contain answers as to where his wife was.

"I can't believe you let her go," Caroline yelled at Tyler for the hundredth time.

Tyler took a sip of his coffee, used to his wife's indignation during times where she lacked control. "She's one of my best friends," he explained. "She needed help. She said that she wanted to divorce you."

Damon groaned. "And you didn't question it because you never wanted her to marry me."

Tyler put down his mug. "No," he said calmly, knowing if he didn't choose his words wisely, Damon would knock out his teeth. "I didn't question it because she asked for my help, and Elena never asks for help."

Damon seemed to approve of this answer because he turned to Caroline. "Do you have any idea where she'd go?"

"Damon," she said. "Elena hasn't really spoken to me for a couple of months. We got into a huge argument and then she stopped calling me and texting me."

"What was it about?"

Caroline shifted her feet and looked to Tyler for support. "Don't look at him," Damon ordered. "Tell me, Caroline."

She took a deep breath, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her much with her index finger. "She said that you were being ridiculously controlling with her new job, because you didn't like her new boss and the late night hours he demanded."

Damon frowned. "Why did you two fight about that?"

Caroline sighed. "Because I took your side. She _was_ working crazy hours and her boss never published her good articles. It always seemed like he enjoyed making her jump through hoops. I told her she should quit."

Damon let out a frustrated groan and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept since Elena left. He couldn't imagine sleeping without her by his side, tucked into him so he could drape his arm protectively around her stomach and smell her hair. He always loved the way she smelled. Like lemons and sugar, and sometimes ink or leather if she'd been writing in her journal for a while.

"Maybe she does really want to divorce me," he admitted to himself out loud for the first time.

"She told me you tried to get her fired?" Caroline asked.

"I didn't try to get her fired, I just hoped that would be the end result."

"Why?"

"It was her first attempt at an article. She wanted to write about women who are politically active but aren't in politics. She interviewed dozens of women and worked on the article for weeks. I must've read it a hundred times, but I didn't mind because my wife is extremely gifted. Her passion about the topic was evident throughout the article," Damon sighed and took a sip of the coffee Caroline placed in front of him when he arrived in their home, but hadn't touched.

"But Gregory Vanguard didn't publish it, instead he yelled at her for not writing about what he wanted her to write, which was a list of the best life hacks for women," Damon rolled his eyes. An article on life hacks is completely beneath Elena. He knew that she had more talent in her thumb than the entire staff.

"Elena came home crying," he continued. "I could barely get her to calm down, she was so crushed. So I went to the office, punched him, told him to treat my wife with some respect, turned around and left."

"Damon!" Caroline yelled. "She's never going to come back. God, why did I take your side? I should've known something was up when I started sympathizing with you."

Tyler interjected. "She told me that you tried to give her a curfew."

Caroline looked murderous at both Tyler and Damon. "I didn't give her a curfew. I just told her that we should both try to be home earlier."

"She said that you said to be home by seven or you were going to go to her office and drag her home," Tyler clarified.

"God," Caroline yelled at Damon practically knocking her coffee over. "Can I divorce you?"

Damon stayed noticeably silent. Had he overreacted? He didn't think so. Not when since Elena had started that position, she was constantly sad. She'd get her hopes up over the smallest bit of positive encouragement Vanguard gave her, and then pull a 180 and crush her. Since Damon had known Elena, she never bragged about how gorgeous she was or how kind and forgiving she is, always willing to give anyone a chance; as Caroline aptly said, Elena is the savior of the cursed and the damned. But she was confident in one area, her writing. She didn't boast, it was a confidence from within that shone in her work. Vanguard was slowly and manipulatively taking that away and Damon couldn't bare to see it happen.

"This all started because she took that position at Be Everything. Maybe I should have a talk with Vanguard," Damon pondered.

Caroline shook her head and slammed her hand on the table, Tyler barely pushed her mug out of the way in time. "No Damon. I really think you should just give Elena some space. Nothing is set in stone yet, and Elena obviously needs time away from you."

"Caroline, something is wrong, dammit! Christmas is Elena's favorite time of the year. Who organizes Christmas morning for all of us? Elena. On Christmas morning, she makes us all wear cheesy pajamas that she bought. We open presents and drink hot chocolate, and then she gets mad at me for spiking everyone's hot chocolate with Baileys," Damon pauses and waves a hand between Caroline and Tyler.

"You and Tyler inevitably get into a fight over what he got you or didn't get you. Elena makes me play the piano while we sing Christmas carols. It's fun dammit, and Elena wouldn't miss it, especially when she paid to fly Jeremy in from Japan."

"Damon, did you ever think that this was the last straw for Elena? Remember what happened to Stefan? He's your brother and you two haven't spoken in years because of something he did to Elena when he was still in high school."

"Caroline…" Tyler tried to interject.

"No, Tyler. Damon needs to hear this." She turned to face Damon, who looked lost. Something she rarely saw. "You beat up your own brother and were in jail because of Elena. He wasn't even invited to the wedding, even though Elena wanted him there. This isn't the first time you've interfered in her life. You didn't even like Tyler for a while because he took her to homecoming their freshman year."

Damon was now pacing the kitchen, he didn't really internalize anything Caroline said, except for the fact that she now believed Elena really wants to divorce him. He thought about Stefan, his brother. Even though Elena had tried to rectify their relationship several times, Damon still hadn't forgiven him.

"My relationship with my brother is none of your damn business, Caroline."

"But your relationship with my best friend is, and that event has everything to do with her. You need to give her time, and if you and Elena are meant for each other, then she'll come around."

Damon shook his head. "You're wrong and you don't know a damn thing about me and Elena. If Elena actually trusted you, and you were her best friend, than you'd know where she is, but you obviously don't."

Tyler put a calming hand on Caroline as Damon stormed out, more frustrated than he had been when he walked in, hoping for answers. Now he just had more questions, and knew the only place to get them was from Elena's office.

 **Day 20 (December 31, 2010)**

He found her on the Wickery Bridge, standing on the ledge, looking at the cool waters under the moonlight. She looked like she wanted to jump in, which scared Damon more than anything.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he joked. Since Damon had helped out at the mall, he and Elena had started texting. He even helped her with her study for her economics final because he was majoring in business economics. Her text messages got him through long classes and his internship at his father's company, now run by the former CFO until Damon could take over. Something Damon knew would happen since his father passed away.

Elena didn't turn around when Damon spoke to her, instead she inched closer to the edge, climbing on one of the rungs so she could peer over. Damon strode over to her, and climbed up next to her so he could support her back in an attempt to keep her from falling. Though, he was more concerned with her jumping in than falling.

"I was supposed to die," she muttered, looking intently at the waters as if it held the answers to life's questions.

"Why do you think that?" Damon asked, wanting to pull her from that spot, so close to death, and hold her in his arms, but he knew he couldn't. It wasn't what she needed and he knew that she needed to make the decision to step off on her own. However, he was prepared to jump in after her.

"My parents went out of their way to pick me up from a stupid high school party because I decided that I didn't want to be there anymore," she lifted up her hand and touched something on her cheek.

"I wasn't even supposed to go. I was supposed to be at game-night with my parents and Jenna. It started to rain on the way back from the party, and the car hydroplaned over _this_ bridge and into the river. I watched both of my parents die, knowing it was my fault," Elena stepped up higher, Damon followed. "I was supposed to die, not them," her voice croaked. "They should be here, taking care of Jeremy. Having game-nights with Jenna and their friends, not me."

"Are you God?" Damon asked.

Elena's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Are. You. God?" Damon repeated, punctuating every word.

"No," she replied incredulously.

"Are you the X-Men mutant Storm?" Damon continued.

"No," she sighed.

"Are you the God of the Sky, Zeus?"

"Damon, what are you getting at?"

"You didn't create the storm that caused your parent's car to hydroplane," he explained. "Your parents picked you up from a party that you didn't want to be at because they love you. When you love someone, you drop everything to be with them when they need it."

Elena's chin wobbled as tears threatened to fall. "Blaming yourself gives you control over the unexplainable, I understand that," he adds. "Is that why you're here on New Year's Eve? Having an existential crisis?"

Elena didn't say anything, she remained immobile, staring at the water. Tears cascading down her cheeks, she let them fall, not moving her hand to wipe them away. She looked like an angel of the night. Her long straight hair, a glistening purple underneath the moon and stars. Her sequined sleeveless dress sparkled shimmered and reflected in the waters. It wasn't until Damon gazed down at her feet that she realized she was shoeless. She didn't have a jacket, and her purse was no where to be found.

"Elena what happened?" he demanded. She didn't move.

She called him from an unknown number and said that she needed a ride. Why was she on the Wickery Bridge? "Elena, I am prepared to pull you off the ledge if you don't say something, anything."

"You're right," she whispered.

"What exactly am I right about?" Damon coaxed.

"I blame myself because if I don't, it's like I'm saying that my parents died for no reason. They just died because shit happens. Blaming myself gives it meaning and reason and an excuse for me to isolate myself from people," she turned around, and that's when Damon saw the gash on her forehead and a bruise forming.

"Elena, what happened?" he demanded.

She lifted her hand to her cheek, then her forehead like she forgot it was there. The sudden movement caused her footing to slip, and lose her balance. In a flash, Damon caught her as she fell backwards. He cradled her in his arms like she weighed nothing, before carrying her to his car, parked close by.

"What are you doing?" Elena asked, not wanting to admit that she felt safe and warm in his arms.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," he ordered.

Elena hesitated. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to my car so I can clean you up. You're not walking on your bare feet. You might step on glass, a rock, or a nail, then you'd have to get a tetanus shot; plus the ground is freezing. Where are your shoes, by the way?" he asked. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Damon smirked.

"You don't want to know," she replied.

"I was having a very nice New Year's Eve party that involved me, Raiders of the Lost Ark and a glass of bourbon when you called. I have a right to know."

"I'm kinda shocked your plans didn't involve an orgy," Elena mused.

"The night is young, Gilbert."

When they got the the car, Damon sat her in the passenger seat, draped his jacket around her shoulders and crouched down with the door open so he could look at the wounds on her face. He places his hand gently on her forehead, inspecting the cut and bruise. Elena's eyes flitted up to his, just inches apart. His hand cupped her chin and tilted it up, so he could see it better in the light of his car.

"You're not going to need stitches, but I need to clean it up before it becomes infected," he said, standing up and heading to his trunk to get out a first aid kit. "Where's Stefan? Weren't you two supposed to go to some party together?"

Elena stayed silent, and that's when Damon had a realization. He walked back to her with his first aid kit, and opened it up, taking out an antiseptic wipe and cleansing her cut. She sucked in breath as he tried to clean up the blood. Moving the wipe, he blew on her cut. "What are you doing?" she once again asked.

"Soothing some of the sting," he replied, opening up another wipe and continuing to clean the wound. "My mom used to do it when Stefan and I would come into the house with various gaping wounds."

Laughter bubbled up inside Elena. "Cute," she muttered, trying to fight her giggles.

Damon scowled, carefully placing two butterfly bandages on her cut. "I always felt like it worked."

He took out an emergency instant ice pack, shook it and placed it on her cheek, still crouched down, he asked, "What happened with Stefan? What did my brother do?"

She took a deep breath. "Stefan got drunk. Really drunk. It was like one drink wasn't enough, he had to keep drinking until he forgot whatever's haunting him," she paused, thinking. "He got into an argument with one of the guys at school over his car. He claimed his '63 Porsche could outstrip Keith Rockwood's new Corvette, so they agreed to race, except since it was a competition over who's car was better, not the better driver. So girlfriends had to drive."

Damon groaned. "Stefan made you race?"

"Yeah. Part of the race went over the Wickery Bridge, Stefan's idea to take that route. I don't know why. He knows better than anyone what that bridge means to me. He kept yelling at me because I was freaking out and crying," Elena shook her head and looked down.

Damon brushed a lock of hair that fell in her face and cupped her cheek. "Hey," he said, soothingly. "None of this is your fault."

"He said that he thought that going over the bridge would motivate me," she sobbed. Elena wiped he nose on Damon's jacket, hiccuping. "I'm sorry I'm ruining your expensive jacket."

He shook his head, and pulled the jacket tighter around her. "I don't care about my fucking jacket. What happened next?"

"I froze. It was like I was flashing back to that night and I slammed on the breaks as we were going over the bridge. Stefan's car skidded and swerved. The driver's side hit a light pole and my head slammed into the window. Stefan was pissed. Mad he lost. Mad I dented his car. Mad he was angry at me. He yelled at me for being immature about the whole thing. We heard sirens in the distance, so everyone took off. I refused to get back in the car with Stefan, so he took off. I was so angry and upset, I took my shoes off and tried throwing them at the back of his car," she tried to dry her tears with the sleeve of Damon's jacket and sniffed.

"Stupid, huh? I lost my ride back. My cell phone and purse are back at the party. I was able to flag someone down and use their cell. Your number was the first one that popped into my head. Sorry I ruined your New Year's plans."

"You didn't ruin my plans, Elena. I will always be here for you, when you need me."

Damon ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her gently on the forehead before getting into the car. "My brother shouldn't have treated you that way. He's going to pay."

Elena snapped her head toward Damon as he got in and started the car. "Damon, I called for a ride, not for you to get vengeance for me. He's your brother."

"What did you think would happen, Elena?"

"I thought you would pick me up and give me a ride home."

Damon shook his head. "You are dating my brother and he treated you like shit. Of course I'm going to kick his ass before he turns out like our father."

"What does _that_ mean?" she yelled.

Damon ran a hand through his hair. If he were being honest with Elena, he'd admit that he was scared of what he might do. He'd never been so angry with his brother. Elena was good. The one good thing he was sure of in this world, and Stefan treated her like a toy he could prop up and show off when he wanted to, and then kick around when he was bored with it.

Damon didn't answer her question, instead they drove in silence until they heard popping sounds in the distance. Small explosions that lit up the sky. "It's midnight," Elena observed.

Damon pulled over the car, and put down the convertible top so they could watch the fireworks coming from the Lockwood estate. Damon leaned back and watched the display, stealing glances at Elena to see if she was okay. They locked eyes for the briefest of moments, before Elena leaned over the console and pressed her lips against Damon's. She tasted so sweet. And just like that, just when Damon was about to do something he'd regret, like pull her on his lap, she pulled away.

"Happy New Year, Damon," she whispered.

 **Day 2,567 (December 21, 2017)**

Caroline was wrong about what happened that night, but Damon didn't bother correcting her. After Damon made sure Elena made it into her home okay, he started the search to find his brother. It didn't take long before he found him sitting against a brick wall in an alley outside of The Mystic Grill, drinking out of a paper bag. He'd been kicked out. Damon was angry when he found Stefan, but softened slightly at the sight of him because he knew his brother needed help.

When Damon approached Stefan, Stefan glared at him with unfocused bloodshot eyes. "She called you, didn't she?"

Damon nodded. Stefan tried to stand up, but fumbled falling back down. "You think I don't see what's been going on between you two. She texts you when she needs help. You make her laugh, bring her a croissant and latte from her favorite bakery, and you helped her study," he stammered, trying to get up again. "I'm the better brother. I'm the football star," he said, pointing to himself. "I helped her out of the water the night her parents died."

Damon sighed and crouched down, trying to take the bottle out of Stefan's hands. "Then why did you make her drive over that bridge?"

Stefan took the moment of close proximity to punch Damon. Damon staggered backward, but was still able to land a punch across Stefan's face. "You arrogant ass," he yelled. "I'm trying to help you."

Stefan rammed into Damon, knocking him completely over. "I don't want your help," he said, punching Damon back across the jaw.

They brawled out into the street and it started creating a scene. Damon had pushed Stefan into an iron picnic table outside of the grill, knocking it over. Damon got up and threw Stefan to the ground. "You hurt Elena," Damon said, now on top of Stefan, continually hitting him. "She was good for you and you ruined that. If you don't stop, you'll turn into Dad."

The brothers were completely oblivious to the cops arriving. Sheriff Liz Forbes arrested both of them, but never charged them. Instead she opted to have them sit in a cell together overnight. In the cell, Damon convinced Stefan to go to rehab. The moment they were released, Damon flew with Stefan on the family's private jet to California, and checked him into rehab. Stefan cleaned his act up, but chose to stay west and never return to Mystic Falls, because it reminded him of his rocky childhood.

It also severed the brother's relationship. Damon was left with the fallout and the responsibility of running his family's company. Stefan couldn't get past Damon's marriage to Elena. Damon never talked about his brother, because as he said multiple times, it was none of anyone's damn business.

Damon thought about that night on his way to the offices of Be Everything. He thought about what would have happened if he ignored the unknown phone call and not gone to Elena that night. No matter which way he looked at it, that night and that phone call was the catalyst for his brother getting the help that he needed and himself taking responsibility for his family's legacy, instead of begrudgingly doing what was expected.

He pulled into the parking garage of a red brick building and parked in Elena's empty parking spot. He entered the lobby, decorated in wrought iron gothic lamps and chandeliers, giving the publication company that housed Be Everything an old world London feel. Damon walked up to the receptionist and gave her that smile that got him the best seat in a restaurant.

She peered beneath her black rimmed spectacles when Damon approached the desk, and pursed her cherry red painted lips. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Damon smirked. "I'm here to see Ashley Fell, in marketing."

Damon knew that Ashley was one of Elena's friends and would allow him to come up. He just needed to get past security. The receptionist looked at her computer screen and then back up at Damon. "I'm sorry Mr. Salvatore, but you're banned from the building."

Damon knew this, which is why he had a couple of back up plans. "Look," he said, glancing at the name tag on her navy polka dot blouse. "Debbi, I lied. My wife, Elena Salvatore, left her passport in her desk and we're leaving the country to visit her brother in a couple of hours. Please, I'll only be a minute."

She bit her lip. "Elena's always been really nice to me. Brought me those banana smoothies from the grill when I was pregnant with my first. I was craving everything banana. Banana bread. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Banana cheesecake. Everything," she laughed, and went into her drawer to retrieve a visitors name tag. "I'm letting you up because I owe your wife. Please, don't make me regret it, Mr. Salvatore."

Damon grabbed the tag, thanked Debbi and went up the elevator. He just had to avoid Vanguard and he'd be able to get what he needed, as long as Elena hadn't already quit so she could leave. He decided to push that negative thought from his mind.

Elena had a corner office next to Vanguard, which Damon knew he should try to avoid if he didn't want to get kicked out of the office. Gregory did have a restraining order against Damon, and he knew that even Liz Forbes couldn't protect him from violating that document. Plus, dealing with the police and lawyers would be more wasted minutes when he could be looking for Elena.

He got off on the floor below, and spotting an unguarded coat rack, borrowed a men's trench coat and fedora, and swiftly got back on the elevator. When the doors opened, he walked around the outside of the office, avoiding eye contact with anyone, so he would be able to enter Elena's doors without having to cross Vanguard's office.

Elena's office was messy clean. Files and notes were stacked everywhere, with neat labels in her familiar scrawl. An empty travel mug kept memos from flying everywhere. There were a couple of pictures in frames. One of her family, a Christmas photo taken when she and Jeremy were kids, all wearing ugly sweaters and holding up mugs of hot chocolate, over flowing with whipped cream. The second, a picture of the both of them. He couldn't believe she kept that picture.

 _They did everything wrong on their wedding day. They were separated for a couple of hours, when Damon couldn't sleep._

 _Elena wanted to be traditional and spend the night apart before her wedding. He couldn't stand being away from Elena, and when he looked at his phone, he saw that she had been texting him. Wondering where he was and what he was up to. Getting mad at him for just the possibility of him being at the bar in the hotel lobby getting plastered the day before their wedding, even though he was pacing his room. He came up with an idea that would probably infuriate Elena, but he knew she would end up loving it._

 _Damon strode through Elena's hotel room, and patted himself on the back for swiping a key when they checked in. Elena screamed, he was expecting that, and she hit him, he was expecting that too._

 _"Damon!" she yelled, going in for another hard punch in the arm. "What are you doing here?"_

 _He knew only honesty would get her to listen. It's how they worked, they were unabashedly honest and real. Neither could hide truths for very long. Damon grabbed her hands and pulled her out onto the balcony of her suite, overlooking the town square, twinkling with holiday lights. They both wanted it simple and their home was Mystic Falls, and always would be. Damon found family and life there, and couldn't imagine marrying Elena anywhere else, except maybe Vegas or a simple courthouse the moment she said yes to marrying him._

 _She was wearing a simple blue camisole and stripped boxer shorts. Her hair was down and wild from tossing and turning. She looked like his, something that had been part of him the moment he laid eyes on her. The famous Elena Gilbert was about to become Elena Salvatore. He was a lucky bastard, and he knew it._

 _The cool winter air nipped at her skin, but she didn't mind. Elena didn't look at the town square, she looked at him. Wondering what he was up to this time._

 _"Marry me," he said, holding her hand._

 _She laughed. "I am marrying you Damon! How many times are you going to ask me?"_

 _His lips curved, as he leaned down cupped her face and to press his lips to hers. Elena leaned into him, as his hands drifted from her face, lightly skimming her arms until he reached her waist so he could pull her in deeper. Their mouths melded together, and neither party was attempting to break the embrace. She moaned as Damon guided her to the wall, so he had more support._

 _"I'm going to ask you over and over until we make it official," he said between kisses._

 _Elena's head tilted down, resting it against the crook of Damon's neck, taking a deep breath. "We can't do this, not before the wedding. It was hard enough saying good bye to you a few hours ago."_

 _"I love you," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "We don't need some stuffy ceremony in front of people we can't stand."_

 _"You can't stand," Elena corrected._

 _"It's not us," he said._

 _Elena stepped out of his embrace and looked at him square in the eye. "Are you suggesting we elope, when our wedding if less than fifteen hours away? Because that makes no sense, we might as well just go through with it. Caroline's been planning it long enough."_

 _"But that's the point. This wedding is for our friends, colleagues, business associates and the people who helped raise us, it's not for you and me, Damon and Elena," he argued._

 _She sucked her bottom lip and spun around to look out, over the ledge of the balcony. Damon stood watching her for a few minutes before she turned around and gave him a scrutinizing look. "Are you doing this so we can have sex sooner?"_

 _"Sex with you sooner is an added bonus."_

 _She nodded, and walked toward him, trying to hide a smile. "What do you have planned?"_

 _"I convinced our pastor who's ordaining the ceremony to stop by and he is bringing his wife as a witness. They've been married for fifty years, so I felt like it was a good omen."_

 _Elena cocked an eyebrow. "You convinced him to swing by at 3:30 in the morning?"_

 _"I paid him. We're already paying him, so I don't see what the big deal is giving him a little extra to go above and beyond the call of duty," Damon pointed out._

 _"Okay," she replied._

 _"Okay?"_

 _Elena kissed him. "Okay."_

 _He pulled her into a deeper embrace. "Good, because they're going to be here in a few minutes, and I really didn't want to have to break out the cuffs."_

 _"Oh my God, you did not just say that," she groaned, pushing him away. "I have to get changed."_

 _Damon tugged her back to him. "Don't," he ran his hand through her hair and looked down at her. "You're perfect. Let's just get married like this."_

 _She looked down at her feet. "I'm wearing socks with elves on them."_

 _He smiled. "They're cute. They're you and that's who I'm marrying."_

 _Elena looked at him. Damon was wearing jeans that hung low and a black henley. If he raised his hands, she could see his happy little trail. "Easy for you to say, you're actually dressed."_

 _Damon raised his eyebrows. "Would you like me to strip? I'm okay with a nude ceremony."_

 _She chuckled, until they heard a knock at the door. Before Damon answered it, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"_

 _"Yes. You know that I'm not big into weddings, so this is the perfect solution. Then I can just enjoy tomorrow," she replied._

 _They were married for the first time on the balcony of Elena's hotel room. Damon had her band in his pocket, and Elena grabbed his from the night stand. They promised they'd love each other, take care of each other, be partners in all things, and grab each other's butts when they're old and wrinkly._

 _The pastor's wife was sobbing, loudly. Elena was crying and laughing, until Damon paused in the middle of putting on her ring. "Elena Gilbert, you are my breath, my every heartbeat, you are in my blood, you continually flow through my heart and keep it pumping. I vow to always be the one to love and take care of you while your eternally good heart takes care of everyone else, until my blood runs cold and my heart stops beating."_

 _He placed the ring all the way on Elena's finger, and kissed her before he was given permission by the pastor._

Damon held the picture in her office. The pastor's wife had taken that picture of them, her cheeks flushed and hair tousled. He was looking at her, like he'd just captured a star in the sky. It was one taken during without either of them knowing

He put the picture down and started searching through her things. After a few minutes, he heard movement outside the door, but continued searching knowing this was probably the only place that held answers. He was so busy looking through things, he accidentally knocked a stapler and file off the desk.

He bent down to retrieve the items, and something caught his eye. A few buttons from a woman's blouse and a hair clip. He picked up the hair clip and recognized it immediately as Elena's. A bunch of hair was still attached, and as he looked closer to the forks of the clip he swear he saw a bit of dried blood, matted in the small clump of hair attached to the clip. It was so small, it'd be insignificant to anyone who didn't know what to look for.

He wrapped the clip and buttons up in a piece of paper and placed it in the pocket of his jeans. Trying to clean up the mess he made, he saw her planner peaking out from underneath a few files. He flipped it open, and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Elena drew on the edges of her planner and wrote little quotes on the edges. One quote she wrote two months ago stuck out to him. "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms-to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances."- Viktor Frankl

Underneath it was a familiar number. Damon whipped out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. Stefan's cell phone number. He took a deep breath. Was she in contact with him? Did she fall in love with him? A number of insecurities was floating through his head as he tried to think of the last time he'd even seen them together.

Damon was about to bite the bullet and call his brother, when the door swung open. "Salvatore, you're not supposed to be here."

Gregory Vanguard stood in the doorway wearing a three piece grey suit and red plaid bow tie. He was a cyclist, tall and lean, with two week's growth of a beard. Damon always thought he looked like a reject from HGTV and he couldn't stand to look at him now. Even though he was banned from seeing his wife at work because of a restraining order, he never once regretted punching the asshat in the face. Did he know where Elena was?

"Still scared of me, Van?" Damon asked sardonically.

Vanguard's eyes narrowed at the nickname. "I could have you arrested for violating the restraining order."

Damon shrugged. "And have the police waltz through your office and make a scene? Make you look ineffective to advertisers?," Damon tsked. "You know, Van, you should be nice to me."

"And why's that?" he asked, taking the bait.

"Because I am CEO of Salvatore International Investments, and a small part of my job is running media conglomerates all over the world. I'm responsible for 80% of your advertisers, and I could easily tell them to pull out of your tiny magazine." Damon had thought of telling Vanguard this months ago, but Elena had always stopped him, wanting to be a success on her own. She was the one that convinced him to just go along with the restraining order. Now, he didn't have much left to lose, so he'd gladly pull the right strings to get Vanguard fired, but for now, he needed him to stay put. Damon had a bad feeling something happened and needed time to figure it out.

Damon's threat seemed to do the trick, Vanguard looked shaken and as now leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded like a pouting child. "Tell your wife she's fired if I don't see her within the week. She owes me an article, I don't care if she has to work here on Christmas Eve to get it done."

Damon shook his head. This guy was a grade A dousche. "You really are an idiot, Van."

Then, something seemed to register as Vanguard looked at the planner in Damon's hands. Gregory stood up straighter and walked closer to Damon. "Wait," he said. "I knew you two had problems, but I had no clue you didn't know where your wife was. It all makes sense now, she left because she was sick of your controlling behavior. Couldn't keep the Mrs. in line? Tell you what, she can take as long as she wants on that article, as long as she comes back to the office in that cute little black pencil skirt of hers, as Ms. Elena Gilbert. I'll even give her a bonus for coming to her senses."

Damon put down Elena's planner, and stood up, his whole demeanor shaken. "I'm going to love ruining you," he said as he strode past Vanguard and to the elevator. After dropping off the trench and hat he borrowed from the floor below, he left the building hoping to return under different circumstances. He knew what he had to do, and at least he had something to go on.

Damon arrived at Liz's office less than ten minutes later. She was on the phone, but he didn't care. He didn't even bother stopping at her receptionist's desk. When Liz saw the look on her friend's face, she hung up on whomever she was speaking to.

"Damon?" she asked, prompting him to sit down. He didn't, instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out the hair clip and buttons.

"I need these analyzed for DNA or whatever you guys do."

Liz looked at the clip. "Where did you find this?"

"Liz, something is wrong. Elena left me," he explained, ignoring the sympathetic look from Liz. "Liz listen. Elena left out of the blue…"

Liz frowned. "Caroline said that Elena told you she wanted a divorce. That's not out of the blue."

Damon was growing impatient. "But Elena wouldn't leave like this. No one knows where she is."

"I can't do anything Damon, she's not a missing person."

"Dammit! Listen. I went to her office…"

Liz threw her hands in the air. "Look, Damon, I'm really sorry Elena left you, but you just told me you violated a restraining order and you want me to have someone analyze a hair clip with a bit of Elena's blood on it. She has long hair, this could've easily happened getting stuck in a drawer or knotted up in a bun. I can't do these kinds of favors for you."

"They were found underneath her desk next to those buttons, like they were torn off."

"Or popped off," Liz replied.

"Please Liz, this is Elena we're talking about. If she was in trouble, she wouldn't say anything. I think she's really in trouble and I'm just asking you to look into this," he pleaded.

Seeing the look of desperation in his eyes, Liz nodded. "I'll call you if we find anything," she said.

Damon pressed his hands together and bowed to her. "Thank you."

 **Day 363 (December 9, 2011)**

"No," Elena said, trying to close the door to her dorm.

Damon easily blocked her and held the door open with one hand. "I'm not asking you to go on a date with me."

"Good, because the answer would've been the same as it has been for the last ten months. No way. Nope. Not going to happen," she replied.

Damon shook his head. He was unsure of what he'd do when she does say yes, because at this point, the game was kind of fun. "I'm offering to drive you back to Mystic Falls for holiday break, not to prom."

Elena smirked. "You did ask me to prom, which was creepy with you being in college and all, and if you recall, I said no. The answer isn't going to change, Damon."

"Elena Marie Gilbert," he practically sang. "I am doing you a favor by offering my services. You could drive home with your nail-clipping, yogurt-stealing roommate, or you could ride in my very comfortable classic Camaro, chauffeured by your dear friend, moi."

Elena laughed, which made Damon smirk. He loved it when he could make her laugh. "Would I get to control the music?"

"As long as it's good."

Elena thought about it. She did need a ride, and she didn't want to go back with Wendy. She was still cursing herself for not rooming with Caroline off campus when she offered, but Elena wanted the college experience, which meant dealing with a horrible roommate. She'd go home with Caroline, but she was driving to her father's in D.C.

"Fine, but you have to let me chip in for gas," she decided. "Otherwise it feels too much like a date."

"I promise, I will let you chip in for gas," Damon said, but he didn't specify how much he'd take, which was a dollar.

"When do we leave?" she inquired.

"Can you be ready in a few hours?"

She nodded.

"I'll come up at four," he said, on his way out the door before she could change her mind.

"I can meet you downstairs!" she yelled after him, but it was no good, he wasn't turning back.

"I never thought I'd say this, but your taste in music is good," Damon remarked about thirty minutes into their drive.

Elena grinned. "My dad liked Johnny Cash and classic rock; my mom liked eighties music. They used to fight over who was better, The Cure or Queen. My mom always won those fights."

Damon's eyes crinkled beneath his aviator sunglasses. "Why?"

"Because he let her. He loved arguing with her about trivial things and then ending the argument on his own terms," she laughed. "When they really argued, which happened but wasn't often, I was always sent to my room. What about your parents?"

Damon was quiet for a moment before he said anything. "My parents didn't really argue."

"Really? That's practically unheard of in this day and age."

Damon shook his head. "They didn't argue because my dad wouldn't let my mom talk back."

The mood in the car became tense, tangible almost. Elena could practically see Damon thinking about when he was a kid. She knew something happened, because of the way Damon referred to his parents, and his reaction to what Stefan did the night he left, but she never pressed the issue. That's when Damon absentmindedly pulled up his sleeves and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. A few burn marks peppered his forearm.

"What happened between you and Bray-Bray?" he asked, changing the subject. It caught Elena off guard, which she guessed were his intentions.

" _Braden_ ," she emphasized his first name, correcting Damon. "Is currently dating Wendy."

Damon laughed. "You're roommate?"

"The very one," she said, then shrugged. "I don't mind. Braden kind of annoyed me. He would not shut up about soccer and some video game he liked."

"Not a fan of soccer?"

"No, I like soccer. I just don't want to hear about how you're the next David Beckham, when you play on an intramural soccer league."

Damon chuckled.

"I mean, he'd be like, 'Come to a game, Elena. It's right after the ultimate frisbee tournament on Davison Quad.' I thought it was cute at first, and was willing to overlook it because he has a nice ass and is sweet in his own way, but I couldn't deal with another video game night."

Elena took a sip of the latte that Damon ordered her before he picked her up.

Damon changed lanes, trying to pass a truck. "You thought he had a nice ass?"

Elena practically spat out her drink. "That's what you got from what I said?"

"I just didn't think you were that shallow," he retorted.

Elena scoffed. "Really? How's your love life? The campus clinic hasn't put out any fliers to get tested for a Syphilis outbreak, so it must be slow. Sorority girls not falling for the Damon Salvatore charm anymore?"

Damon's lips twitched and put his hand to his heart. "You wound me, Gilbert."

"Sure," she said sarcastically, turning up the music and pulling out a bag of gummy bears from her purse. She took a couple and handed the bag to Damon who popped a few in his mouth.

"You know what we need?" she asked over the chorus of Bohemian Rhapsody.

"What?" he asked, taking another gummy bear.

She unlocked her phone connected to the car's blue tooth and started playing Christmas music. Frank Sinatra's _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ came on and she sighed, happily, leaning her head against the cool window.

Damon stole glances at her, she looked peaceful. "You really like the holidays, don't you?" he asked, thinking back to the previous year.

Elena sat up and played around with the sleeve of her long sleeved red shirt, sticking her thumb through the hole so she could warm herself up and drink her lukewarm latte. "My mom got really into it. It's really the only time of the year where I'm just grateful I had them when I did, instead of the years and future I'll miss."

Damon thought back to his own life. "Stefan made me a series of Shrinky Dink ornaments with his nanny when he was seven. Each ornament a different Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. I still have them, somewhere."

Elena gave Damon a genuine smile. "So your heart's not made out of coal. I knew there was a shred of Christmas spirit in there, somewhere, deep down."

"Deep deep down," he added with a smirk.

"How's Stefan?" she asked.

Damon kept Elena updated on how Stefan was doing. Even after what he did to her, she was still concerned about him. "He's been sober for almost a year, and is in the Bay Area attending Stanford. He told me that he's planning on going to medical school, which I think is a good decision for him. He always liked playing doctor with the girls down the street."

"Gross," Elena laughed. "Well, I'm glad he's found a direction to take his life. He's not coming back for the holidays?"

Damon frowned. "Why? Did you want to see him?"

"No," she replied honestly. "I just wondered."

He let out a deep breath, that he'd identify as relief. The sun was slowly setting beneath the clouds over the horizon. "He doesn't want to step foot back in Mystic Falls. Too many memories that Stefan wants to forget."

"What are your plans for Christmas, if Stefan isn't going to be home?"

"I have to work on my dissertation and I'll probably watch Die Hard and grill a steak."

"Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker!" Elena's cheeks started to flush when she realized she yelled it. Damon started laughing. "I like John McClane, okay?" she said, a little too defensively.

"I thought it was adorable. You're invited any time, if you want to watch it with me. I have a big flat screen television and a soft leather sofa," he said enticingly.

She shook her head. "The answer is still no."

"We're friends, right?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Friends watch movies together, right?"

"Damon, I get your point, but the answer is still no way in hell."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll bombard you with the Blue-Ray some time during break, when you're missing me."

Elena spotted something in the distance. "Wait, Damon. Take the next exit."

"Why?"

"Trust me, just do it."

Damon turned off on the exit and Elena directed him to an old fashioned tree lot, out of an old red barn. Christmas music was playing on the speakers as they got out of the car.

"You're getting a tree?" Damon asked.

"Jenna got our tree. We're getting you a tree."

Damon immediately started getting back in the car. Elena ran over and tried pulling him out by the arm. "Come on! Do you want me to call you Scrooge from now on? Cause I'll do it. It'll be spring and you'll be walking through campus, on your way to your global domination class and suddenly you'll hear me yelling Scrooge, and waving at you while I watch Bray-Bray play Quidditch in the quad."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, let's get a tree and get out of here," he looked at a man dressed up as Santa Claus handing out candy canes to children. "This place gives me the creeps."

Within the first three minutes of walking into the lot, Damon pointed to a random tree and said that it was fine, and he was getting it. Elena shook her head. It had too many holes and looked like the Charlie Brown tree. Sad and bare.

"You need a nice big full tree for your living room like a Douglas Fir or an Eastern White Pine," she commented, walking through the trees and feeling the needles. She pulled one and smelled it. "God, I love the smell of Christmas trees."

Damon didn't tell her that the housekeeper already had a tree delivered and decorated, instead he enjoyed letting Elena drag him through the lot, making him smell various pine needles and shake a tree to see if it was an old tree or a fresh tree by how many needles fell. She ordered them both peppermint hot chocolate and Elena laughed when Damon used a candy cane as a swizzle stick. Damon bought jars of homemade jam from the people who owned the place, and somehow ended up helping several families tie trees to the roofs of their cars.

"I have to get a gingerbread man, it's our tradition," Damon said, going back to the counter and ordering he cookie. Elena sipped her hot chocolate and admired the sparkling white lights strung throughout the lot. Bing Crosby crooned over the speakers.

Damon came back and sat next to her. Elena grabbed the cooking from his hands and ripped off the head. "No jokes about me giving you head," she said, putting the cooking in her mouth.

He laughed. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Good," she replied. They sat back, breaking off bits of the cookie and looking at the happy families in flannel and ugly sweaters, trying to find the perfect tree.

He glanced at her and absentmindedly started playing with the end of her hair, twisting them in her fingers. She didn't move, instead she leaned into him, allowing him to wrap an arm around her shoulder. He tugged her closer, and she looked up into his sea-blue eyes. Snow started to fall, as if the heavens approved of their contact, that moment.

He brushed a snowflake from her nose with his index finger, and cupped her chin. She looked up at him expectantly, thinking he was going to kiss her. "Go out with me," he pleaded.

"Okay," she breathed.

 **Day 727 (December 7, 2012)**

Elena sat on Damon's chestnut leather couch and looked up at the Christmas tree they bought a few days earlier and placed in the living room of the boarding house, next to the fireplace and Damon's personal stock of thousand dollar bottles of whiskey and bourbon. Damon walked over and handed her a mug.

She took it and sniffed the contents in the mug. "This hot chocolate better have bourbon in it."

He sat down next to her. "Rough day?"

She took a sip. Spiked with Baileys, she knew she could count on him for this. "Rough semester. Taking summer classes and busting my ass at the paper, and going straight into fall semester, all so I could get a TA position with Mr. Chapman has been exhausting. I should've taken you up on the offer to go to Italy over the summer."

Damon shook his head. "We can still go, if you need a break. I can make a few phone calls and we could be in the air by midnight."

She sighed, falling into his chest. "I love that you'd do that for me, but I can't with Jeremy still in school and Jenna at Ric's cabin. Plus, a storm is supposed to come through Mystic Falls tonight."

Damon held his breath at the word love. He'd said that he loved her within the first week of them dating.

 _He didn't plan it. He'd snuck into Elena's bedroom and forced her to watch Die Hard with him on her bed. Elena cuddled up next to him while he had his arm wrapped around her._

 _Every emotion reads on Elena's face. Fear, anger, sadness, sorrow, pain, excitement, joy…Damon knew all of the facial expressions and was curious to see how many more there where. When he realized he could watch her watch a movie for the rest of his life, he blurted out that he loved her. She laughed, "You love me?"_

 _"Yes, you little dork," he replied, pinching her nose. "I think I've loved you my entire life, I've just been waiting to meet you."_

 _Her brows furrowed. "That's not possible."_

 _Damon sat up and paused the movie. He turned towards Elena and searched her eyes. "I thought I was meant to be alone and unhappy for the rest of my existence, then I met you and I started believing in the possible."_

 _She grinned and leaned in to kiss him, gently on the mouth. "Thank you."_

Damon didn't need to hear the words back, because he was just grateful to be able to call her his girlfriend, and he held onto that for dear life. But even he had to admit that whenever she uttered the word 'love' he held his breath. She could've said that she loved the chocolate gelato at their favorite Italian restaurant, and he'd hold his breath for more, like some love sick school girl.

"Why can't we just go? You need a break before the spring semester. I'm sure Jer will understand."

Elena let out a frustrated noise. "You don't get it! I'm not like you, I can't just drop my family and forget about them. I'm not going to abandon my brother on Christmas to galavant around Europe with you. I'm all he has. It's just me and him."

She put her mug down and stormed out of the room. He understood that she was talking about Stefan, but he wasn't willing to go there yet. They barely spoke, especially since he started officially dating Elena, but he knew Stefan wasn't coming back to Mystic Falls anytime soon, and they both weren't big on this time of the year.

He was about to speak to Elena when he heard the front door shut. "Elena?" he shouted.

He went to their room and all over the house calling her name. He finally decided to run outside, but she was no where to be found and her car was still in the drive. It meant that she must've gone for a run. With a storm starting, he didn't feel comfortable leaving her out there, alone and unprotected.

He ran out after her, not sure which direction she went in. After fifteen minutes of running, freezing rain started pouring. He picked up his pace and started shouting her name. He ran part of her usual route, but didn't see her anywhere ahead. He stopped in the middle of the road and spun around and dodged an oncoming car. Where did she go? His mind was racing as the downpour turned heavy and cold, causing the roads to be slick. He hoped she wasn't on the road. God, why did he push her to leave town with him.

"Elena!" he yelled, again. "ELENA!"

A black hearse drove by, almost hitting Damon. He cursed at the hearse, until he had an idea. He ran in the direction of the hearse, cutting through the woods until he saw her in the graveyard, kneeling at her parent's grave wearing just a tank top and shorts. She looked fragile, something she didn't like other's to see.

"Elena?" he said, walking to her.

She didn't move. She was crying. He knelt down with her and wrapped an arm around her. She was shaking, but immobile. He had to get her to open up. To talk to him.

"I hated the holidays because that's when my dad had the most time off. More time to pay attention to me, something I never wanted," he started to say. "He'd call me an ungrateful pathetic little shit. He said that I was weak and I needed to toughen up, so he'd hold out my arm and tell me that I wasn't allowed to cry while he burned me with the end of his cigar."

Elena grabbed Damon's arm and pushed up the sleeve os his shirt. She traced his scars with her index finger while the freezing rain slowly turned to snow. "Every day I wished my father would die, and when he finally did," he paused, reexamining what he wanted to say. "Elena, you lost parents that loved you. You can hold onto memories of them, instead of trying to erase them from your mind."

She lifted his forearm and tenderly kissed all five scars. Damon stilled, never feeling more exposed as she gently tried to take away the sting of years of pain. She looked up and soothingly ran her hands through his hair, prompting him to look at her. "You've been alone your whole life," his eyes flicked up to her's. "You will always have me, because I will always love you."

Damon's eyebrows rose, a look of hope entered his eyes. Elena got on her knees and pressed her mouth to his, even in the wintery weather, she didn't feel the cold. "My heart is yours, Damon Salvatore," she whispered between kisses.

"I'll protect it until my dying breath," he whispered back.

 **Day 2,567 (December 21, 2017)**

"Damon?" Stefan asked from the other end of the phone.

"Hey little brother," Damon replied. He was sitting in his car trying to figure out how to say what he had to say without admitting that his wife wanted a divorce.

"What's up, Damon?"

"Did Elena call you?"

There was a pause and then a laugh. "She didn't tell you?"

Damon sat up straighter. "Tell me what?"

"She called me to get an appointment with a mentor of mine, Dr. Angela Wessix. She teaches at Stanford Hospital, but is a world renowned specialist in her field."

"What field, Stefan? Who's this doctor?" Damon practically yelled, he was getting impatient.

"I thought you'd know considering you two are trying to have a baby," he said.

Damon was thunderstruck. Why would Elena ask for a divorce, but want to see an OBGYN?

Stefan continued while Damon tried to digest the news. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize Elena was having trouble getting pregnant."

Elena wasn't having trouble getting pregnant because they'd never tried. They decided to wait another couple of years, until she was more established in her career and he was able to get more trustworthy and capable people around him at the office, so he could be at home more.

"Thanks Stefan, I was just curious. Did she make the appointment?"

"I'm not sure. I just gave her Angela's personal number," he replied, somewhat concerned. "Damon, what's going on?"

Damon didn't want to burden his brother with this information, especially when Stefan had been doing so well. "Everything's fine. Elena's just been acting secretive, and now I know why. How are you doing?"

Stefan told Damon about how medical school was going and a new girl he was seeing. Damon listened, but couldn't stop thinking about what Elena was up to.

When he got off the phone with Stefan, he immediately looked up the doctor. Dr. Angela Wessix was the top in her field, Board Certified in Reproductive Endocrinology and Infertility and Obstetrics and Gynecology. She's published and presented over 50 articles, abstracts and book chapters on various topics, including in-vitro fertilization, blastocyst culturing and cryopreservation and donor egg donation and preimplantation genetic diagnosis. She was ranked the number one doctor in her field.

Damon still didn't know why Elena would want to see a doctor, when she could see one here. He called his assistant to make arrangements to fly to San Francisco as soon as possible. His assistant called a few minutes later saying they couldn't fly out until the morning because of a storm coming in. He cursed. He threw his hands against the steering wheel and punched it.

Elena was alone and going through something, and in the pit of his stomach, he knew that whatever it was and whatever she was afraid to tell him, she was hurting.

His cell phone rang and he immediately picked it up, hoping it was Elena. It was Liz.

"Damon," she said when he answered. "I need you to come down to the station right now."

Multiple thoughts came across Damon's mind. Vanguard pressed charges for violating his restraining order, was the first thought that crossed his mind or Liz could have information about Elena.

"I'll be right there," he replied and then hung up.

"You're right," Liz said the moment he walked into her office. She motioned for him to sit down, but he didn't.

"What am I right about?"

"I had tests run on the clip and the buttons. Obviously, Elena's DNA was on the hair clip. The forensic scientists concluded believe that the way the hair was pulled out in a clump and the angle in which the clip was broken, her head was smashed on the floor and the hair was pulled out. That's not all, there were a few hairs and a spot of blood on one of the buttons, unseeable by the naked eye. The DNA belongs to Gregory Vanguard."

Damon cursed and ran his hands through his hair and paced her office. "I'm going to kill him. I am going to snap his neck like a twig."

Liz coughed. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just threaten to kill someone in front of me."

"Why hasn't he been arrested? Something obviously happened between Elena and Vanguard. He hurt her, Goddammit. Bring him in for questioning," he demanded.

"Question him about what?" Liz replied. "No one has pressed charges and you don't know what happened. Without Elena, or a witness, we don't have anything to charge him with. We don't know what happened. In court, we can't even use the evidence because you took it from the alleged crime scene."

He took a deep breath. "I can't let this go, Liz."

"Damon, think about Elena. If Gregory Vanguard shows up dead or hurt, you'll be the first person pulled in and arrested. You already violated your restraining order. Find Elena and find out what happened," she explained. "Then we'll get justice."

"Thanks Liz," Damon said, turning around to leave.

"Damon, don't kill Vanguard," she repeated.

He didn't say anything. He left the office feeling angrier than he had in his entire life. If he couldn't kill Vanguard, the next best thing was to completely ruin his life and Damon had the means to do exactly that.

 **Day 2,191 (December 10, 2016)**

"Do you want Thai food from that place we like off Main?" Elena yelled, while getting out the boxes of ornaments from the attic. They were going to spend the evening decorating the tree they bought together earlier that day. She already had Christmas music going and hot apple cider heating on the stove.

"Whatever you want for dinner is fine, as long as you order the satay and the spicy green curry with rock shrimp," he replied.

"Anything, huh?" She chuckled, walking down the stairs carrying a couple of boxes. Damon ran over to help relieve her.

"Thanks. I think we've accumulated too many ornaments over the years. I swear these boxes get heavier and heavier."

Damon carried a couple of the boxes while they walked back to the tree. "We'll just get another tree."

"Fine by me," Elena replied. "We'll put another one in the bedroom."

"Oh, I like that idea."

"You would. Your Snow White fantasies could come true," she laughed. "I still have that Halloween costume."

Damon's lip twitched. "I'm just going to run back to the tree lot before the Thai food gets here," he joked.

They placed the boxes next to the large tree, probably the biggest one they'd gotten yet. Damon had already strung the lights and placed one ornament on the tree, the one he kept in his office throughout the year and was never packed away; Santa driving the Camaro.

Elena squealed, and Damon turned around. She was jumping up and down, looking at her phone. "I got the job!"

"The one at the women's magazine?" Damon asked.

She ran up and jumped him, giving him a huge hug, wrapping her legs around his waist so he had to carry her. "Yes! I am going to turn that magazine around. The editor told me that I'd be able to write about what I want and in one of our meetings he talked about how he hires only the best writers, so all he has to do is support their point of view. This is it Damon, this is what I've been working towards," she explained, perched above him, peppering him with excited kisses.

Damon sat her down on the couch and leaned over her, pressing his mouth to hers. Elena pulled away. "You're not saying anything. Something's wrong."

Damon released her and sat back on the couch, while she tucked her legs beneath her and a throw pillow protectively on her stomach. He sighed, knowing he'd have to give her the truth. "I don't like him."

"Is this because of that dinner?"

"He didn't want me there and he couldn't take his eyes off of you, with me sitting right next to you. I don't trust him."

Elena scoffed. "He was looking at me because I was talking, Damon."

"He wasn't looking at your face, Elena."

She threw the pillow at him. "You're jealous! You don't want me to take the job because he's your age, good looking and you think that I'd leave him for you."

Damon tossed the pillow onto the floor. "You think he's good looking?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "He's not you."

Damon seemed satisfied with that answer. "Don't take the job."

She waved her hands in the air, frustrated. "So I can pad around here and make you dinner every night, waiting for you to come home?"

He chuckled. "You make dinner?"

"That wasn't my point."

"I know," he said. "Why don't you work on your book?"

"Damon, we've been over this. No one wants to read my book. I've already tried and failed."

Damon waved his index finger at her. "You tried one publishing house. One. Try more, mail it out to every publisher out there. Your book is good and it's personal."

She shook her head. "You're not exactly an unbiased opinion. You liked the draft of an article you thought I wrote, but turned out to be the second page of a letter I wrote to Jeremy."

"It was very informative," he replied. "You could always work for one of my many media outlets. Pick your dream position and I could hand it to you."

"No. I want to do this on my own, without your help."

Damon got up and walked behind the tree. He pulled out two boxes in silver and gold wrapping and handed them to her. "What's this?" she asked curiously.

He sat back down next to her. "Early Christmas gift."

She opened one, it was a beautiful oxblood leather satchel, she ran her fingers down the sides of the soft leather. Her name was inscribed in the bottom corner in a beautiful script. Elena Salvatore. "I had it made in Italy," Damon explained. "I thought you could put your laptop in it and files."

"It's exquisite and absolutely perfect. Thank you," she said, feeling emotional.

Damon leaned over and kissed her on the forehead and then on the nose, running his hands through her long hair. "Open up the other one."

He sat back and pulled her onto his lap as she opened up the next gift. It was a series of leather bound notebooks, all inscribed with her name on the bottom corner. She opened up the books and fanned through the pages. The paper was thick and the color of parchment, and it smelled like home.

"I know you like to write notes and write out your stories before you type them. I thought you could write them in these. I have a whole case full of the notebooks in my office."

Elena's eyes filled with emotion and red splotches started to appear on her cheeks. She sniffed. "It's beautiful Damon."

He tugged her closer and wrapped his arms around her. "I'll support whatever you decide, but this way you have something for the office, if that's the direction you decide to take, and your office for when you write your stories."

She twisted her head and kissed him gently. "I love you so much."

 **Day 2,568 (December 22, 2017)**

Damon sat in the waiting room of Dr. Wessix's office, in a charcoal grey suit and black tie. He'd just gotten off a long direct flight on his private jet, where he spent most of the time making phone calls, and researching his next steps. He had five people on his payroll gathering information for him. This is where Damon thrived, he was in crisis mode, and he had a direction to put his energy.

A petit blond in pale pink scrubs with her hair slicked back in a low bun approached Damon. "Dr. Wessix has time to see you now." Damon stood up. "I was able to get you a last minute appointment," she added with a wink.

Damon followed her down a hallway lined with pictures of women in various stages of pregnancy. "I appreciate it, Brandi."

She turned around before letting him into the doctor's office. "If you're not doing anything later, I can give you a personal tour of Palo Alto. A _very_ personal tour."

Damon gave a forced a grin. He was able to get the appointment because he said that he wanted to invest in Dr. Wessix's research. Money usual made things happen quicker than the truth. "I'm flattered, Brandi, but I'm a happily married man."

She clucked her tongue and took a minute to slowly scan Damon from bottom to top before letting him into the office. "Lucky girl," she muttered absentmindedly.

Damon entered a stark white office with soft blue accents and large window that looked out to eucalyptus trees and bushes of red valerian. Dr. Wessix sat in a white leather chair and closed her MacBook when he entered. She was older with shoulder length auburn hair and green eyes that peered at him beneath reading glasses.

"Damon Salvatore," she greeted. "Please sit down."

Damon unbuttoned the bottom button of his jacket and sat down in a white leather chair opposite her's. "I assume you aren't here to talk about investing in my research," she observed.

She was smart, Damon would give her that. "That depends on what you can tell me, and I'll gladly donate whatever you need to your research," Damon replied.

"If you're offering to donate and not invest, then you must know that it's unethical for me to tell you about your wife," she wisely deduced.

Damon shrugged, took a pen from a silver cup on her glass desk, and ripped off a piece of paper from her personalized notepad. He wrote down a number, folded the paper in half, and handed it to the doctor. "I just need to know why my wife saw you. I'm her husband and I believe I have a right to that information if I feel like she's in danger or under mental duress, which I do. I know that her visit is somehow related to me. I don't want to bring lawyers into this, so I'm willing to give you enough money to fund your research for the next decade."

Dr. Wessix opened the note and inhaled sharply. She took a moment to think it through. After what Elena told her, she knew that there wasn't a huge risk in giving Damon the information he needed, especially when she could really use the money he was offering for her research. "Your wife saw me yesterday afternoon. I'm one of the only doctors in the country that will do a paternity test before the eighth week of pregnancy."

Damon's eyebrows shot up. "She's pregnant?"

Dr. Wessix nodded. "She's about six weeks along."

"Did she…"

"The moment I told her the risk of miscarriage, she declined," Dr. Wessix stated. "She's already had a rough and stressful pregnancy, which increase her chances of miscarriage."

She needed a paternity test, which means he might not be the father. The thought of Elena being pregnant with someone else's child made his stomach writhe.

Damon got our his checkbook and started writing the doctor a check. "Does the risk lessen when she's further along in the pregnancy?"

Dr. Wessix took the check. "There's always a risk," she paused, looking at the check. "I should tell you something else, Mr. Salvatore."

Damon nodded, prompting her to continue.

"She set up an appointment for an abortion on the 26th," she said.

 **Day 2,520 (November 4, 2017)**

Her chin was nestled in the crook of his neck, and their legs were tangled together. His arms held her in a vice like embrace, never wanting to let her go, even in sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, and she took a moment to enjoy inhaling his scent and the warmth and safety of sleeping beside him. Her husband. After being married to him for almost four years, she was amazed by how normal it had always felt to call Damon her husband. It never felt old or new, it just felt like a natural evolution in her life, like Damon Salvatore was always meant to be part of it.

She carefully tried to roll out of his embrace, so as not to wake him up. She had to be at the office by 7:00 or Greg would get mad and make her stay late. She hadn't wanted to tell Damon that Greg made her feel uncomfortable, or that he sometimes yelled at her and threw things. She could rationalize it, because he was a passionate person, it's why she wanted to work for him. But if she told Damon, he'd go ballistic and could get thrown in jail because of the restraining order. She cursed herself on a daily basis for not quitting the moment Greg filed a restraining order against Damon.

Elena wasn't sure if Damon telepathically knew she had to get ready, because even though he was dead asleep, he pulled her closer to him and tightened his grip. She looked at the clock, 5:15. If she didn't get in the shower in a few minutes, she'd be late. She tenderly kissed his neck and then pinched his nipple. Hard. He jerked back, and Elena was almost able to make an escape, when he tugged her back.

"Do that again." His voice was husky and his eyes were still closed.

She pushed him. "Damon," she yelled. "I have to go to work."

"It's early. We have time," he said, lazily.

"I don't have time for sleepy sex right now," she exclaimed. "If I have sleepy sex with you, I won't go to the office. I know how this goes."

His eyes opened. "Don't go," he leaned in and kissed her neck. The spot that made her ache for more.

She moaned, leaning into his kiss. He left a trail of kisses from her neck to her clavicle, then he pulled down the strap of her silk nightgown. Elena arched into him. "Damon," she breathed.

He lifted the hem of her nightgown and drew circles with his fingers, massaging the spot above her lace boy shorts, as he continued to suckle her breast.

"Hmmm," she hummed. "Keep doing that."

He looked up, his lips twitched. "Not going to work today?"

"Ummmm…."

He dipped his hand into her panties, slipped to the bundle of nerves down there and a shot of white hot fire flowed through her veins. His fingers slid through the wetness that gathered there and started to stroke, slowly and rhythmically.

She shuddered, feeling something coil inside of her, an intensifying ache that needed to be attended to. A need to be filled.

With his other hand, Damon palmed her breast, as his mouth pressed against her neck. Hitting that spot again. She writhed beneath him.

"Not going to work today?" he asked again.

Her neck arched, prompting him to continue his ministrations. "I'll pull my hair in a bun," she said, her voice husky and heavy. "And skip breakfast."

His finger slipped into her and a gasp escaped Elena as tension coiled. He added another finger, pushed in deeper and pressed his palm against her apex. She was on fire, and sweat started to mist her body. Her hips jerked towards him, riding his fingers.

Damon hovered over her and pressed his lips to her's with such all consuming urgency, it was as if he was saying good bye, and sealing the memory of this moment deep into the recesses of her mind. He continued to press into her as he melded his mouth with hers. Warmth spread through her entire body as she felt pressure release and a blissful tingle sent waves through her body.

He pulled his fingers out of her and slowly took off her lace panties, while she rode the wave of her orgasm, peppering her thighs with feather light kisses. Damon then coaxed the rest of her nightgown off, only slightly struggling to get it fully off as it caught on Elena's hair. "This is why I insist we sleep in the buff from now on," he chided.

She giggled. "I'd never get any sleep if there was nothing between me and your cock."

Damon growled, taking off his boxers and throwing them to the floor. "I love it when you talk dirty."

He kissed deeply, coaxing me to open my lips to his. His tongue slid in, sweeping over her lips. He continued to delve deeply, nudging her thighs open with his knees, so he could settle between them. The tip of his cock glided over her clit causing her hips to buck. She broke from his kiss. "Damon," she moaned. "Now."

He entered her with a jolt, completely filling her at once. She arched her back, the sensation shocked her, knocking her back. She wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles as he continued to push into her. Unable to speak, he dragged his tongue down her neck, licking the sheen of sweat that started to pebble her soft skin.

"Goddamn," she yelled in a voice that she didn't recognize.

"You like that?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "Hmmmmhmmm."

He chucked, rocking into her. Thrusting he took her breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her pert nipples and then biting into them until they were red. Marking her for himself. She gasped, screamed as he thrust into her again. Feeling pressure build, his head dipped to the side and he ran his expert tongue along the curve of her breast before pressing his lips to hers. She wrapped her hands around his back, clawing at him, telling him to go deeper and harder.

He thrust again, knocking her head into their headboard, but she didn't even notice because she felt his cock twitch inside her and that was her undoing. She fell apart. He clasped her hands, his head rested on her forehead as he rode the wave of her orgasm until he came, completely filling her.

"Elena," he growled. She was in a state of bliss as he slowly continued to rock into her, until they both stilled and held each other. Her legs relaxed and fell from his backside as he pulled out of her. Damon kissed her sweetly, like she was a precious treasure he had to keep for himself.

Elena gazed into his sky grey eyes. "I love you," she cooed.

"Say that again," he demanded, kissing her nose.

"I love you, Damon Salvatore," she declared this time, like it was the first time she said it.

He went in for a deeper kiss, fusing his mouth with hers, sending happy tingles down her whole body. "You are the keeper of my soul," he whispered, running his fingers through her chestnut strands. "I love you endlessly."

She hummed sweetly, and then bit his other shoulder, marking it. "I have to go to work."

He yelped and then pouted. "It's Saturday. Stay with me and ditch the boss."

She kissed the corner of his lips, softly. "I can't," she got up and slapped his butt. "I'll see if I can get off early so we can continue with this," she said, pointing to the bed with her index finger and then turning around to go take a shower. "No following me!" She yelled, reading Damon's mind.

 **Day 2,568 (December 22, 2017)**

After he left the doctor's office, Damon spent the next few hours driving around Palo Alto and calling hotels to see if she checked into any of them. It was dark and he was prepared to spend another sleepless night looking for her in every single hotel in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Damon pulled up to the Stanford Courtyard Hotel and walked into the lobby with a picture of Elena in hand and ready to bribe whomever he had to to get answers. As he walked in, he heard carolers singing _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_. They were the type of carolers that were meant to look like they stepped out of a Dickens novel. He stared at them for a few seconds recalling a memory. It was on the tip of his tongue, like capturing a clusters of stars with a large net.

His eyes lit up the moment he remembered and before he turned around to go to his car, he opened up his wallet and threw all the cash he had into the caroler's basket.

The moment he thought it, he knew she was there. Like a magnetic pull. He drove as fast as he could, not caring what laws he was breaking into the San Francisco.

When he arrived at Ghirardelli Square, he walked into the center of he square and scanned for Elena, then he walked throughout the mall trying to find her. She was nowhere to be found, and he felt foolish for even thinking that a place she mentioned once seven years ago would be where she was in that moment. For all he knew, she could've visited earlier or is holed up in her hotel room, wherever that may be.

He looked out over the Pacific Ocean, the stars reflecting magically in the waters. God, if he could just talk to her and let her know that she didn't have to carry this burden on her own because no matter what happened in that moment or in the future, he'd always love her. His heart was shackled to her and being without her was like imprisoning himself. Life sentence or the death penalty. He'd never be able to exist without her.

Damon walked to his car, parked across the street from Ghirardelli Square when he saw someone sitting in the dark on a bench. He made a few quick strides to get a closer look, when he saw the familiar silhouette of his wife. She was staring out at the water, much like he was minutes before, her legs tucked beneath her, wearing a knit cap and the red pea coat she always wore when they shopped for the perfect Christmas tree.

The moment he recognized her, he ran to her. "Elena!" he yelled.

She turned around, her eyes puffy and face splotchy from crying. "Damon?" she croaked. "You found me."

She didn't sound relieved, but resigned to the fact that her stubborn husband knew her too well. Damon sat down next to her, wanting to pull her to him, but unsure of how she'd react.

"Please," he pleaded. "Please, Elena. Tell me what happened."

She shook her head and went back to staring at the water. "I know about the baby. I know about the paternity test. I know this has something to do with Gregory Vanguard," he paused and swallowed back bile, because he knew the question he'd have to ask. "Is he the father?"

A sob broke out as weeks of stress flowed out of her. "I don't know."

He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, and rubbed her back. "What did he do?"

She pushed him back and shook her head. "I can't Damon. Don't ask me." She got up to go. "I want a divorce. Finding me didn't change anything."

"You're scared," he yelled after her. "The Elena I know doesn't run from a fight. She's stronger than that."

Elena spun around. "The Elena you fell in love with is dead. Mourn her and move on, Damon."

He shook his head and closed the gap between them. "Coward."

Her eyes narrowed. "What? You thought you'd find me and rescue me from this all consuming pain that I feel? You can't. I don't need saving. I need you to leave me alone."

"I will protect your heart until my dying breath," he said, repeating what he said the morning or their wedding. "You are wounded, Elena. You've been hurt and it's killing me knowing that you're going through this alone."

She pressed her lips together, trying to hold in the tears threatening to break free. Her head tossed side to side, denying denying denying what happened. She couldn't utter the words. She couldn't tell Damon the complexity of the decision she had to make. She crumpled to the ground, sitting on the grass unable to control the flow of tears.

Damon bent down and wrapping his hand underneath her knees and holding her arms, he lifted her up and kissed her forehead. "I've got you," he whispered over and over and over until they reached his car.

He tucked her into the passenger seat, where she curled up and laid her head against the window. Damon drove them to the Fairmont Hotel, where he booked them a suite. He didn't let go of Elena the entire time, fearful she'd run off, even though she was clinging to him.

He sat her in the couch of their suite and had tea brought up to the room. She sat quietly, cocooned in herself. Completely withdrawn. Answering with simple nods or mutters of yes and no. Once the tea arrived and Damon poured her a cup with a little honey and lemon, and she started to speak and once she started, like a flood it all came out. Damon sat and listened, not interrupting, except to hold her hand.

"It was that Saturday I was late for work. Gregory was upset that I wasn't there at exactly 7, so he made me stay late to help him work on the layout of the magazine. The moment I realized that no one was in the office, I should've left. I stayed and he kept having me do things that his assistant should be doing, not a writer," she paused, taking off her knit hat and laying it on her lap, playing with the frayed bits of thread.

"Like get him coffee or clean up the mess in his office. He was just delaying what actually needed to be done, forcing me to stay later. I was sick of it, so I went in my office and started loading my bag to go home," she sighed. If only she'd stayed with Damon in bed like he suggested. That thought torturously cycled through her head over and over.

"He entered my office, pissed off that I was leaving. I told him that I quit and that I thought his magazine was a piece of shit. That's when he got really angry. He shoved me against the wall and told me that I couldn't quit and I fell to the floor. The clip that held together my bun dug into my skull from the impact and partially broke in my hair. He pulled me back up by the hair. I think he pulled out a chunk of hair with the clip," she explained. Damon's hands were balled up into fists. He wanted to kill Gregory Vanguard.

"I tried to fight him off, I hit him, scratched his skin until he bled, but it was no use. He was too strong. He shoved me against the wall and started kissing me. He called me a whore for wearing the skirts I wear all over the office and the blouses meant to entice him. He said that I flirted with everyone and he wouldn't be surprised if I was fucking half the staff. He ripped my blouse and started kissing my breast. I kneed him in the groin, which only infuriated him. He twisted me around and bent me over the desk. He held me down by my neck and pulled up my skirt and and…" She couldn't say it, but didn't need to, Damon knew what he did.

"When he was done, he told me if I told anyone, to remember what type of person you were, that even if you coming within twenty yards of him, he could have you arrested. He kept on saying that no one would believe me and that it was my word against his. I know that I should've called the police and filed a report. I know that, but I just wanted to forget it happened. I didn't want to have to relive it. I just wanted to take a hot shower and burn his smell off of me."

"Elena…" Damon started to say.

She shook her head. "Please let me finish. I quit, I know that. But I knew that you'd want to know what happened and I didn't want to explain what he did to me, to you, so I stayed in a hotel that night. I couldn't bare with the thought of how you'd look at me if you knew, especially when you'd told me from the beginning that you didn't like him."

Damon moved towards her to hold her, but Elena shirked back. "I need you to know that I was going to tell you," she explained. Damon breathed out a sigh of relief, because one of the most concerning things, apart from the fact that his wife was raped and is pregnant, was the fact that she didn't tell him. If she felt like she couldn't tell him….that was an entirely different problem they'd have to work through.

"The day I was going to tell you everything, was the day I realized I was pregnant. When I found out how far along I was, I knew that it could be either your child or Gregory's." Elena's chin wobbled and her eyes filled with tears. More tears for the time she'd spent trying to hold herself together.

"What was I supposed to do Damon?" She demanded. "If I aborted our child, I'd never forgive myself. But carrying Gregory's child for nine months?" she shook her head. "I came here knowing I'd have to make an unforgivable decision, and I hoped that Dr. Wessix would be able to give me answers to make the decision, but when she told me there was a chance I'd miscarry anyway, all I could think was, what if this was our baby and I took that risk?"

Damon leaned over and used two fingers to tilt her chin up so he could look directly into her eyes and know that she was hearing him. "I will always love you. No matter what decision you make, I'll support you. If you decide to carry this baby and it's Vanguard's, I will love the baby as my own because you will be part of it, your blood will run through it's veins and you'd make a wonderful mother."

"Really?"

Damon nodded, now cupping her cheek. "Really, and if you decide to have an abortion, I'll be right by your side through the whole procedure."

"Really?"

"And you don't have to decide right away. We can stay here until you make up your mind."

She nodded. "I think I need that."

"Then you'll get it."

 **Day 2,571 (December 25, 2017)**

Damon and Elena stayed in San Francisco until Elena made up her mind. Damon slept on the couch while she stayed holed up in the room, thinking. It wasn't until the night before they left that she suggested they have a Christmas Eve dinner. Damon took her to a place in the North Shore, where they ate Italian food. Elena was quiet for most of the dinner, until she voiced some concerns that didn't directly relate to her decision.

"What are we going to do about Gregory? I don't want him to find out I'm pregnant and I don't want anyone to know he raped me, just in case- you know."

It was the first time she referred to it as rape. The previous day Elena agreed to see someone to help her with what she's going through. She Skyped with the doctor earlier that day, and the fact that she could utter the word rape was tremendous progress.

"Do you really want to know?" Damon asked.

"I'm not opposed to him ending up dead in a river."

Damon shook his head. "Liz put a stop to that plan the moment I formulated it while in her office a few days ago. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

She took a bite of her eggplant parmesan and nodded. "I'm sure."

"The moment I realized something might have happened between you and Vanguard, I had a few people on payroll interview every assistant Vanguard has had. All women, by the way. Two admitted to the reason they left was because of sexual harassment, but it wasn't enough. The girls who were sexually harassed wanted to stay out of whatever we were doing and refused to give a statement, but they mentioned a 15 year old intern that worked for him two years ago. They said that he was fixated with her. Made her work long hours. Commented on her clothing. The investigators interviewed the girl, and she admitted to being raped repeatedly by Vanguard."

Elena's face dropped. "Oh my God. What happened? Why didn't she press charges?"

She felt extremely hypocritical for saying it, but this was a young girl, completely taken advantage of repeatedly.

"He was blackmailing her."

"With what?"

"He filmed it and threatened to release the tape if she said anything," Damon was disgusted. He put down his fork, unable to take a bite. Elena had pushed away her half eaten plate the moment he mentioned the young girl.

"Were the police able to get the recordings?"

Damon nodded. "Liz was on it. She had a warrant and it didn't take long for the investigators to not only find the recordings, but also find out that he'd been selling them online. Gregory Vanguard is going away for a long time with statutory rape charges and child pornography charges. Even if he manages to get out, he'll always be on the sex offender list and he won't have a magazine to fall back on."

Elena's eyes rose as Damon continued. "I sent out a memo to all of his advertisers informing them of the investigation he was undergoing and they all pulled advertising. The magazine is going to fold, they were barely hanging on by a thread anyways."

Elena didn't know what to say, but it did help her make her decision. She just needed another night to tell Damon.

On Christmas Day, they flew back to Mystic Falls. Damon kept his word and didn't tell anyone what happened between Elena and Gregory. The only person that knew was Liz, and she wasn't going to divulge that kind of information. Jeremy met them at their home and gave Elena a big hug when she entered.

"Heard you finally came to your senses and decided to divorce this jerk," he said. Damon took off his knit cap and threw it in the roaring fireplace as way of greeting.

"Hey!" he yelled.

Elena laughed, for the first time in a while, then punched him in the shoulder. "I was just hormonal," she said, deciding to just make her decision known. "It's what pregnant women do."

"You're pregnant?" Jeremy exploded. He gave her another big hug. "I'm going to be an Uncle. The coolest Uncle. So, who's the father?"

Damon coughed and Elena looked like she was going to be sick. "I'm kidding," Jeremy said, slapping Damon on the back and giving him a hug.

Elena blew out a sigh of relief. "It's still early, but I wanted to let you know in person. How's Japan?" she asked.

They sat down by the fire and Jeremy told them all about his job and a girl he was seeing. The whole time, Elena sat in Damon's lap while he protectively put a hand over her stomach. He meant every word of what he said to Elena back in San Francisco. This baby was his, no matter what because it was part of her.

Later on, they exchanged gifts while eating Christmas lunch. Finding out they were coming back, Caroline and Tyler brought over a turkey with all the trimmings. Damon saved Elena's gift that had just come in, for last. When they were stuffed from lunch and sitting by the tree exchanging stories and sipping mulled wine, he handed Elena a brown paper wrapped package, tied in twine.

"What's this?" she asked. "You already got me several gifts, a few involved pretty sparkly diamonds.

"Open it," he demanded.

She pulled off the wrapping and the moment she saw the cover, she cried. "Seriously? Did you pull strings? I swear to God if you made this happen, like _made_ it happen, I'm truly divorcing you."

He shook his head. "For the past year I've been sending out your transcripts as you. I heard back from one of the publishers a couple of weeks ago, and signed the contract," he looked a little guilty for doing that, but Elena didn't care. "This is the first edition of your book, set to release next month. I'm sure your publishers will want you to go out and do press. They're already talking about a sequel."

Elena traced the title of the hardback book with her fingers, The Invisible Bridge. She squealed. The story had parts of her in it. Her dealing with going over the Wickery Bridge and dealing with the death of her parents, it was all in there, told through a girl named Olivia. Her eyes started to water. She leaned over and kissed Damon. "You always believed in me."

He gazed at her and shook his head. "We believe in each other, it's what keeps us above ground."

"Like Santa Clause?"

Damon's lips tugged upward. "How did I know you'd make this about holiday miracles?"

"Because believing in something is magical, like Santa Clause."

Damon kissed her on the nose. "Are you ready for our next great adventure," he said, his hand splayed on her belly.

"Absolutely," she replied. And she meant it.

 **Day 2,936 (December 25, 2018)**

"Damon!" she yelled, running down the stairs to stop him. "Get Lucy out of the stocking. It is not cute to take a picture of our four month old daughter in a stocking. It's so cliche. Plus what if she get caught in it and suffocates, or rolls into the fireplace."

He took the stocking off of her and cradled her in his arms. He was used to Elena's irrational fears and knew it was better to pick his battles instead of argue with her.

Lucy had his eyes, and her mother's rosebud lips. He couldn't get enough of her. Her little nose and tiny fingers. Her nursery was like something out of a storybook. Hogwarts to be exact. Elena had decorated the entire nursery like something out of the books. When she couldn't fly anymore to do press for her book, she started painting pages of the book on the walls of the nursery. Damon thought that she did this because she thought if she exposed Lucy to words sooner, she'd be able to read faster.

Damon sat next to the fire, holding his daughter who looked up at the twinkling lights of the tree in wonder. Elena sat next to him and handed him a mug of hot chocolate.

"Do you think she's too young to watch Die Hard?" Damon inquired.

Elena chuckled. "I don't think she can understand it yet, but I don't want her first words to be…" she mouthed the words _Yippee Ki Ya Mother Fucker_.

Damon nodded, pensively. "We'll stick with The Muppet Christmas Carol."

"Oh, I like that one," Elena said.

She took a sip of her hot chocolate, watching her daughter in a onesie that said "Santa Baby" and had a little Santa belt painted on over the belly, in Damon's arms. Her blue eyes twinkled, completely in love with her father. "So, Damon Salvatore," she said. "Are the holidays your favorite time of year."

He thought about his life for the past eight years and smiled. "It's been my favorite time of the year for the past eight years."

"Hmmmm," Elena said, putting her index finger to her lips. "I wonder why that is?"

Damon smirked. "Some girl I know told me that it was the best time of year, and I followed her until I believed it myself."

"Sounds like a smart girl."

"Oh yes, very. She's a New York Times best selling author, has the world's smartest four month old and she's married to an incredibly handsome and intelligent man."

Elena grinned and pressed her mouth to his, feather light. "He's also the keeper of her heart."


End file.
